Gemotions

The cursor blinked mockingly on the screen, a tiny beacon of defiance against the stark white page. She had to write a message, to connect, to understand. But what words could bridge this gap, this invisible wall her son had constructed?

She chewed on her lip, a nervous habit she hadn’t indulged in since she was a teenager herself. Every word felt inadequate, hollow. The silence in the house pressed down on her, a physical weight. The air was thick, heavy, unbreathable.

She slammed her laptop shut. Her hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into her palms. She needed a solution, a way in, a way to connect. She ran a hand through her hair, the strands catching on her fingers.